


Take Offs and Landings

by LotusJoy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Best Friends, Bromance, Fear, Friendship, Gen, Heartbreak, His Last Vow, Hurt No Comfort, Missing Scenes, Other, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, besties, i suck at picking tags, planes, sherlock and john are best friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LotusJoy/pseuds/LotusJoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The missing scene from 'His Last Vow' from Sherlock and John's goodbye to the end of Mycroft's call...</p><p>Any and all lines/transcripts belong to the writers of BBC Sherlock and were used for the purpose of series continuity...</p><p>The only thing I own is my interpretations on scenes unknown :)</p><p>Enjoy, Rate, Share... etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Offs and Landings

**Author's Note:**

> Internal thoughts/dialogue in _Italics_

Sherlock arrives at the airfield, his stomach churns. He is leaving John again, for good this time but, all is well, John is happy. John doesn’t know any better and it’s for the better, Mary will keep him happy and will fix whatever damage he causes by leaving John a second time. Sherlock takes a deep breath as he exits Mycroft’s car, he looks to Mary, and “You will look after him for me, won’t you?” “Oh”, says Mary as she gives him a brief smile and kisses him briefly on each cheek and pulls him in for a quick hug, “don’t worry. I’ll keep him in trouble.” Sherlock smiles, ( _good thing they can’t deduce my thoughts, my throat feels strange, sentiment…_ ) “That’s my girl.”

 Mary walks over to re-join John and takes his hand. Sherlock greets John with a brief nod and then turns to Mycroft, “Since this is likely to be the last conversation I’ll have with John Watson ...” John winces at the thought and sighs ( _Sherlock, always so dramatic_ ) “…would you mind if we took a moment?” Mycroft quirks his head and then quickly clears everyone off the tarmac and guides them toward the waiting plane to allow the two men some privacy.

John shifts nervously and takes a step toward Sherlock, “So, here we are.” John frowns slightly his throat tightening.

Sherlock nods, without John’s noticing, “William Sherlock Scott Holmes”.

John looks puzzled, “Sorry?” Sherlock deadpans, “That’s the whole of it – if you’re looking for baby names”

John begins to laugh, his eyes prickle at the notion of Sherlock wishing for his child to be named for him, “No, we’ve had a scan. We’re pretty sure it’s a girl.” Sherlock smiles quickly and he can feel himself become filled with… some… emotion… it broadsides him, “Oh.” He says softly, smiling, “Okay”.

They both look at each other, unsure of what to say, or do. The moment seems so final and that fact confuses John. To Sherlock the moment is the end and knowing he will not be coming back is almost too much to bear.

John breaks the silence first, “Yeah.” He looks around and then turns back to Sherlock, “Actually, I can’t think of a single thing to say.” Sherlock looks at the ground chewing briefly at his trembling lip ( _keep it together…_ ), “No, neither can I”.

Sherlock lifts his head to look at his friend, and John steps closer, and then speaks in a hushed voice, “The game is over.” Sherlock’s heart drops in his chest and his eyes harden, almost in anger, “The game is never over, John ...” Sherlock further drops his already soft voice. John is almost convinced he hears it waver as Sherlock speaks in a whisper, “…but there may be some new players now. It’s okay. The East Wind takes us all in the end.”

John looks to Sherlock, “What’s that?” Sherlock clears his throat, “It’s a story my brother told me when we were kids. The East Wind – this terrifying force that lays waste to all in its path.” His voice cracks a bit on the last bit, and he looks off thinking back to his childhood, “It seeks out the unworthy…” Sherlock looks up and grins a bit, “…and plucks them from the Earth. That was generally me.” John rolls his eyes, “Nice…”

Sherlock shifts a bit rubbing at his coat sleeve, “He was a rubbish big brother.” John and Sherlock meet gazes and both grin, a sense of finality falls over them.

John looks down and clears his throat suddenly feeling a little overcome. “So what about you, then?” John looks up at Sherlock, “Where are you actually going now?” Sherlock’s head lulls to the side as it does when he is exceedingly bored, “Oh, some undercover work in Eastern Europe.” John nods solemnly, “For how long?” Sherlock’s breath catches in his throat ( _be honest…_ ) Sherlock looks over John hoping to not meet his eyes, “Six months, my brother estimates. He’s never wrong.” John nods looking to the ground then glancing up, hopeful, “And then what?” Sherlock meets John’s gaze briefly then gazes off into the distance ( _dead… I’ll be dead… and then NOTHING John… nothing…_ ), shrugging, “Who knows?” John nods and then stares off thinking of what he should say to his best friend.

 John takes a deep breath and he glances up to notice Sherlock looking at him intensely as though he has something important to say. Sherlock opens his mouth, for once unable to speak ( _think… something sentimental? Witty? Something… I… No idea what to say…_ ) and finally bursts forth with what he has to say,”John, there’s something ... I should say; I-I’ve meant to say always and then never have. Since it’s unlikely we’ll ever meet again, I might as well say it now.”

 John’s eyebrows lift in interest as Sherlock hesitates. Sherlock takes a deep breath, it shudders as he exhales ( _yes, funny… funny is good…_ ) He looks up to John ( _please don’t notice the tears forming… I don’t cry… I hope I’m far enough away_ ), “Sherlock is actually a girl’s name.”

John turns away, chuckling quietly, Sherlock quickly wipes at his eyes and smiles. John turns back and smiles at his friend, “It’s not”. Sherlock shrugs and grins, “It was worth a try.” John continues to laugh lightly and shake his head, “We’re not naming our daughter after you.” Sherlock adjusts his coat ( _it’s almost time…_ ), “I think it could work.” John chuckles again then meets Sherlock’s eyes.

 Sherlock only holds his gaze for a moment before he has to look away ( _I can’t do this…_ ) Sherlock looks to the ground and then removes his right glove and holds out his hand, “To the very best of times, John.” John hesitates for a moment then reaches out and shakes Sherlock’s hand. They stand there alone for a moment hand in hand before Sherlock releases John’s hand and walks away.

Sherlock boards the plane, and has never felt more alone. Mycroft approaches from the back of the plane, “Good luck brother dear…” and places a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, squeezing briefly, “I am truly sorry it has to be this way…” Sherlock nods and watches Mycroft exit the plane.

The door closes and Sherlock stares out to see John and Mary hands clasped tightly staring up to the plane… The plane begins to taxi and Sherlock leans his head back against the seat and his eyes well with tears he has left unshed until now.

 He feels warm tears stream from the corners of his eyes and he lets them, he makes no effort to brush them away. ( _this is it; it’s over… all that work… all the pain, 2 years… and it’s over… like that… John is happy… that’s what matters; they will forget me in time… with their children and their life… Sherlock Holmes will be a bedtime story, a memory from long ago… they will tell their kids… and their grandkids…_ )

Sherlock’s breath hitches and he lets out what sounds like a laugh but tears continue to flow, one hand clasps over his mouth the other pressed to his chest, over his heart. The attendant on the flight walks over and inquires as to whether ‘Mr. Holmes’ is alright, sees his distress and turns back into the kitchen area to leave him be. His face crumples as he falls apart for the first time in as long as he can recall. He can hardly breathe. He curls in on himself and stares out the window to see endless dreary London sky, ( _God, I will miss this..._ )He sees clouds begin to float by through bleary tear filled eyes ( _this is the end..._ )

Sherlock’s shoulders shake ( _I’ll never meet John’s kids… why do I care… Oh god… I’ll never hold her…_ ), “D-damn s-senti-ment...” Sherlock hiccups as he composes himself, breathing deeply ( _John wouldn't care to see you like this... get it together..._ ). Sherlock’s hands shake as he wipes at his eyes, suddenly, the attendant appears again, a phone in hand, “Sir?” Sherlock looks up, his eyes red, the man is holding a phone out to him, “It’s your brother.” Sherlock takes a deep steadying breath.

 Sherlock’s heart speeds up ( _What could Mycroft want? Has something gone wrong?_ ); he takes the phone and holds it to his ear, “Mycroft?” Sherlock fidgets with the seam on his trousers, Mycroft speaks, “Hello, little brother. How is the exile going?” Sherlock rolls his eyes and puts on his 'persona', “I’ve only been gone four minutes.” Mycroft sits back against the seat in his car and smiles, “Well, I certainly hope you’ve learned your lesson. As it turns out, you’re needed.”

Sherlock heart stops briefly ( _what?_ ). Sherlock gathers himself enough to respond, “Oh, for God’s sake. Make up your mind. Who needs me this time?”

Sherlock faintly hears a distorted, almost machine like, VERY familiar voice in the background.

Moriarty, ( _impossible…_ ) his heart sinks as he finally picks up on what the tinny voice is saying, “Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

Mycroft speaks a single word which turns Sherlock’s world around for the second time that day, “England.”

With an almost manic grin ( _going home…_ ) Sherlock shuts the phone, “You are mine…”


End file.
